


Aftermath

by lachatblanche



Series: Dollhouse AU [37]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Blood, Consent Issues, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-02
Updated: 2013-08-02
Packaged: 2017-12-22 03:49:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/908544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lachatblanche/pseuds/lachatblanche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma deals with the consequences of her actions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aftermath

Emma slowly looked up from the blood-spattered floor, her expression one of grim satisfaction as she gradually lowered the gun to her side.

The others were all staring at her with identical looks of stunned disbelief on their faces but Emma supposed this was only natural. She had, after all, caught even herself by surprise and that was something that happened _very_ rarely indeed. She couldn’t even remember the last time that it had happened. Acting on instinct without the benefit of well-thought-out, carefully-considered options was something of a novelty to her and her actions today had definitely been based more on the former than the latter. Odd, considering that spur-of-the-moment decisions were something that she usually avoided like the plague. She idly wondered whether the event was worthy of a note in her diary.

Not, of course, that she’d ever have _any_ trouble remembering this day at any point in the near future.

Smiling grimly at the thought, she once again allowed her eyes to flick over to the side, to the place where everyone’s attention was now directed.

There, lying impossibly still was the body of Sebastian Shaw, his eyes wide and unseeing and his mouth slightly agape as if in the middle of drawing breath. A copious amount of blood leaked out from the bullet wound in the centre of his chest, slowly seeping through his clothes and forming a steadily-growing dark puddle on the otherwise sparkling white floor.

It was, even to the amateur eye, clear that the shot had been fatal.

Emma had intended it that way.

She deliberately kept her face blank as eyed the results of her handiwork. Her face did not so much as twitch as she looked over the body impassively. ‘My, my,’ she murmured after a moment, her face unreadable even as her eyes remained fixedly on the growing pool of blood around her, ‘Who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?’

There was a moment’s silence wherein she stared as if transfixed at the body in front of her, a sliver of emotion making itself known in the sudden stillness of her body. Then, with a blink, she straightened up and was once more her usual unperturbed self, with any and all signs of doubt or tentative misgivings banished from her mind.

Her conscience was clear. There was no need to dwell on the matter any further.

Feeling once more completely at ease, she casually turned to the others, raising an eyebrow when she saw that they were still staring at her with looks of mingled wariness and incredulity. 

‘What can I say?’ she asked dryly, regarding them coolly and raising her shoulders in a careless shrug, ‘I never liked him.’

If she expected that brief statement to allay their disbelief then she was sadly disappointed. She sighed at the blank looks on their faces and heroically refrained from rolling her eyes, instead turning her attention on to more important matters. Casting a scrupulous eye down at her clothes, she cursed and let out a low noise of irritation upon seeing several small flecks of red marring the previously ice-white material. ‘Oh for goodness sakes,’ she hissed under her breath, feeling thoroughly annoyed. ‘Sebastian can’t stop ruining things even when he’s _dead_!’

Logan, naturally, decided that this was the best time to speak up.

‘Er-’ he began, his eyes fixed warily upon the gun in her hand. ‘Miss Frost?’ 

Emma forcibly dragged her attention away from her clothes. ‘Yes?’ she bit out, unable to fully tamp down on her irritation just yet.

Logan gestured at the dead body on the ground. ‘Mind explaining that?’ he asked dryly, cocking an eyebrow.

Emma’s jaw tightened and she pursed her lips, mentally counting to ten before answering.

‘I told you,’ she said, her voice deliberately calm, ‘I’ve never liked Shaw.’ Upon receiving nothing but disbelieving looks from the others she tossed her head and let out a loud sniff. ‘The man might have been an extraordinary scientist but he was also a colossal idiot,’ she said scathingly, allowing her lip to curl up at the edges. ‘He was always focusing on himself and his childish need for constant gratification whilst completely ignoring the consequences of his actions.’ Her voice filled with contempt. ‘He cared for nothing but power and for no one other than himself.’

Erik spoke up then, letting out a loud snort of derision. ‘Yeah,’ he said sarcastically, sneering at her, ‘Right. Because the two of you are _so_ different.’

Emma’s eyes immediately narrowed. ‘Sebastian Shaw was a fool,’ she snapped, her voice cold. ‘A _greedy_ fool, whose selfishness threatened the Dollhouse’s very existence! He did not care who he hurt or who his actions affected and I will have you know, _Mr. Lehnsherr_ , that he and I are _nothing_ alike. I have only ever done what was necessary for the House’s survival but believe me, Shaw had no such compunctions!’ There was a pause and Emma didn’t have to look around to know that everyone was listening to her intently. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to suppress the anger that still simmered inside of her. ‘I might have even gone along with it for a while,’ she continued, her voice now soft and even. ‘For much longer than I ought to have, perhaps. But then I remembered something. Something that neither Shaw nor I should ever have forgotten.’

‘Oh yeah?’ Raven asked derisively, crossing her arms over her chest. ‘And what’s that?’

Emma opened her eyes and looked straight at Raven, her gaze unwavering and unflinching and completely full of self-belief.

‘That I am the Director of this Dollhouse,’ her eyes burned with each carefully-enunciated word, ‘and that I am responsible for _everyone_ who is employed under my roof. Everyone,’ she repeated firmly upon seeing the doubtful expressions on the faces of those in front of her, ‘Whether they are a Programmer,’ her eyes landed on Hank, ‘or a Medical Officer,’ she looked at Moira, ‘or a Handler,’ Logan, ‘or – above all – an Active.’ Her eyes finally landed on Charles. She didn’t speak for a moment, seemingly content to simply stare at him, but a minute later her lips slowly twisted into a small, rueful smile. ‘Rather an odd creature, isn’t he?’ she murmured, her voice barely audible even in the pin-drop silence of the atrium. Her eyes bored into Charles’s and it seemed as if she was desperately trying to dig out some secret that he held deep inside him. ‘And yet after everything,’ she continued in a whisper, her expression almost pained, ‘it seems that even I was not fully immune to him after all …’

There was silence. Nobody spoke. It was as if they were all unwilling to break the odd spell that had settled over the company in the wake of Emma’s words. 

The silence did not last for long, however, and Raven was the first to break it.

‘Okay, that’s great and all,’ she said, waving off everything that Emma had said mere moments before in a fit of impatience. ‘Really, it is. But honestly? I don’t give a crap. What I _really_ want to know is – how the _fuck_ did Charles get his hands on a _gun_?’ She folded her arms across her chest and glared quizzically at her brother who merely continued to smile in the same oblivious manner as always.

‘I would like to know that too,’ Erik agreed, throwing a suspicious look around at the others and frowning. ‘He didn’t have it on him before.’

‘And how did he know to give it to Miss Frost?’ Moira added, looking similarly puzzled.

There was a low cough from the side of the room and everyone immediately turned towards Logan, who looked back at them and shrugged.

‘I suppose that I could tell you how the gun got there,’ he said slowly, scratching his cheek. ‘I mean – I should know, since I’m that one that put it there.’ He shrugged at the surprise that this statement elicited. ‘I figured that those goons wouldn’t think to check an Active, see? So I stuck it under Charles’s shirt when they weren’t lookin’ and hoped to hell that no one saw it. Almost gave me a heart attack when Shaw took a hold of him,’ he said gruffly, shaking his head. ‘As for him giving the gun to Frost?’ Logan shrugged. ‘Not a clue. I’m tellin’ ya, the kid’s got a mind of his own.’

‘Doesn’t he just,’ Emma murmured, narrowing her eyes speculatively at Charles in a way that made the others very nervous. ‘It’s hardly the first time he’s …. _acted up_ , after all. It makes one think.’

‘Think what?’ Erik demanded, his hands clenched into fists and his eyes trained on Frost with deep mistrust.

Emma raised an eyebrow. ‘Well,’ she said coolly, still eyeing Charles. ‘There is obviously an explanation for his behaviour. We just need to find it.’

Erik’s eyes narrowed. ‘What sort of explanation?’ he growled.

Emma gave an idle shrug, completely ignoring the way that Logan was glaring at her from the right side of the room. ‘We can either chalk Charles’s … _autonomy_ down to whatever depraved experiments Dr. Essex managed to inflict upon him without us being able to identify them,’ she said evenly, ‘or …’

‘Or?’ Raven demanded, her eyes suddenly alight with an odd mixture of rage and fascination.

Emma raised her head to meet Raven’s eyes. ‘Or,’ she said calmly, ‘we can ascribe it to some peculiar component of the Xavier genetic makeup that makes their neurological pathways work differently from ours.’ She raised her eyebrow once more, eyeing Raven speculatively. ‘You and he _do_ share a blood connection, do you not?’

‘Don’t answer that!’ Erik growled, butting in before Raven could reply, although it was quite clear to everyone present that Raven’s response would have been less of an answer to the question and more of an invitation for Emma to _fuck right off_.

‘In any case,’ Emma continued blithely, acting as if Erik had not interfered, ‘The matter calls for a bit more investigation, wouldn’t you say?’

‘Like hell!’ Logan snapped, the roughness of his voice turning his words into a low, feral growl.

Emma merely shrugged. ‘It won’t be _intrusive_ ,’ she said, ‘If that makes you feel any better. Besides, wouldn’t it be better to know once and for all whether or not there are still remnants of Essex’s nasty little fingerprints left on your darling little Active’s psyche?’

There was an awkward silence wherein the others all looked at each other uneasily.

‘No,’ Raven said suddenly. ‘No. Forget it. Charles is getting his own brain back and then we are all getting the _fuck_ out of here, do you understand?’

Emma’s eyes met Raven’s once more but this time there was something wintry in her expression where before there had been nothing but apathy. ‘We shall see,’ she said in an unnervingly even tone before then adding, ‘I suppose it really just depends on what our resident Programmer feels up to.’

At that everyone turned to look at Hank. He had only just clambered to his feet after having been all but knocked out by Shaw’s sudden blow to the head but he didn’t look much better for being upright. His eyes were wide and glassy and his spectacles were still wildly askew on his freely-bleeding nose. Raven made a small noise in the back of her throat at the sight and moved forward to help him but Hank cringed as she approached and quickly stepped aside. His widened eyes and blood-stained face made him look almost unnerving and even Charles was staring at him with the tiniest of puckers in the middle of his forehead.

‘Hank?’ Moira asked tentatively, looking worried.

But Hank didn’t seem to hear her. Instead, he started shaking his head, glancing between the lot of them as if he had never seen them before.

‘No,’ he said, shaking his head furiously. ‘No. I’m not – I can’t-’ He then swallowed before turning back to Emma and when he spoke his voice came out in a panicked groan. ‘I just – I still don’t get – I … _you killed Shaw_!’ he finished with a moan, looking around him with something like despair. ‘You _killed_ Shaw! And you!’ Hank whirled around, staring wide-eyed at Logan. ‘You killed Mr. Creed! You killed the Dollhouse Head of Security!’

Nobody spoke, unsure of how to handle Hank’s sudden outburst. Emma, on the other hand, pursed her lips and looked away, bored. As far as she was concerned she had already dealt with this matter and she had no intention of going over it again.

Logan glanced around and sighed, as if realising that it was now up to him to reach out and calm McCoy down. He looked at Hank carefully, noting the ragged slump of his shoulders and the wild look in his eyes and he grimaced. He paused for a moment, frowning slightly, and then gave his cheek a thoughtful scratch before speaking.

‘Yeah,’ he said calmly in response to Hank’s accusation, deliberately keeping his tone even and unapologetic. ‘Yeah, I guess I did do that, didn’t I?’ Hank let out a whimper at that, at which Logan raised his shoulders in a shrug of indifference. ‘What can I say?’ he drawled unrepentantly, his eyes flicking coolly over to Emma even as his mouth twisted up in a wry smile. ‘I never liked him.’

The corner of Emma’s mouth twitched.

‘But you can’t-’ Hank was still struggling with this. ‘You can’t just _kill_ people like that. You _can’t_! People will _notice_!’

‘The same way they noticed when Charles and the other went Dolls missing?’ Erik cut in sharply, his tone a mixture of sarcasm and long-held bitterness. ‘The same way they notice when you send someone to the Attic? The way that these people just disappear off the face of the earth and are never seen or heard of again?’

Hank opened his mouth but then quickly snapped it shut, abashed.

Emma, on the other hand, was looking thoughtful.

‘Mr. McCoy here has a point,’ she murmured. ‘Whatever Shaw’s reputation might have been he was still a very powerful man. However well I spin it and however little he was liked, I still need to hand the Board a suitable explanation for his death. Otherwise …’ Emma trailed off, her voice softening. She stood still for a moment, deep in thought. Then she looked down at the gun in her hand. She gripped it tightly for a second, weighing it in her palms. Then she looked up, cocking her head to the side as if she were listening for something, before then turning and staring directly into Raven’s eyes.

‘Catch,’ she said, and tossed the gun at her.

Raven, acting on instinct, reached up and caught the gun before it hit her in the face. She blinked for a moment, looking nonplussed. She glanced blankly down at the gun in her hand and then back up at Emma.

There was a faint noise from somewhere behind them and Emma smiled.

‘Drop it!’ Erik said suddenly, jarring the others out of their confusion, his expression oddly desperate. ‘Raven, quickly – _drop the gun_!’

Raven glanced blankly at him and her grip on the handle of the gun loosened slightly – but it was already too late. She had barely managed to frown at Erik’s words when they were suddenly ambushed from all sides by a slew of men in black uniforms, each of them with a gun in their hands that was raised high and aimed towards them. It appeared that the back-up that Shaw had called for had finally arrived. 

‘Freeze!’ the leader of the band shouted, his gun trained unhesitatingly on Raven. ‘Drop your weapon! I repeat, _drop your weapon_!’

Raven blinked and glanced down at the gun in her hand. Then she glanced around at the others. Slowly, it began to dawn on her that she was the only one that was currently holding a weapon.

‘No,’ she whispered, glancing down at her hands with wide, stricken eyes. ‘No. No fucking way. This can’t – NO!’ she shrieked, her voice suddenly rising to inhuman levels as she rounded on Emma. ‘You _bitch_! You goddamned, conniving _bitch_!’ And before anyone could react she abruptly swung the gun up into the air and pulled the trigger.

There was a click.

Nothing happened.

Emma was standing there, not a hair out of place, with a perfectly equable expression on her face. She had held up her hand when the security men had reacted to Raven’s attempt to fire her gun, forbidding them from retaliating.

‘Oh dear,’ Emma said, her tone kind despite the coldness in her eyes. ‘It looks like you are out of bullets …’

The gun clattered from Raven’s hand and she tottered back.

‘Raven-’ Erik reached out for her but she flinched and pulled away.

‘You can’t do this,’ she hissed, gazing straight at Emma with loathing on her face. ‘You can’t. We all know what happened here – we all know that it was _you_ who-’

‘Arrest her!’ Emma ordered, interrupting Raven before she could say anything more. ‘Don’t let her get away.’

‘No!’ Erik shouted, alarmed, but the squad was already moving forward, approaching Raven with guns raised high.

Raven’s eyes flashed and she turned to Emma, her eyes glittering with hate. ‘You will pay for this,’ she said quietly, ignoring the approaching men in favour of keeping her eyes fixed on Emma. ‘I will find a way to make you pay for this.’

‘Yes,’ Emma said calmly, watching as Raven was slowly surrounded. ‘Yes, I rather expect you will.’ She paused. ‘But not yet.’ She turned her head towards the leader of the security detail and gave him a quick nod.

The men immediately made to move forward, their guns trained unwaveringly on Raven. Raven, however, had no intention of being taken by them. With a snarl of fury, she suddenly lashed out with her foot, catching one of them in the throat before turning and smashing her fist into the face of another. She probably would have been shot then and there if Erik hadn’t suddenly intervened, shoving one of the men aside and then going for the neck of the other. On Raven’s other side, Logan too had started to do the same. Hank and Moira both looked on anxiously but they were too wary of the guns now being trained on them to intervene. 

‘Enough!’ Emma said loudly, looking immensely irritated. ‘You are outnumbered – you will _stand down_!’

But she was ignored and the fighting continued, as if she hadn’t spoken at all.

Just then there was the _crack_ of a gun shot that was immediately followed by a number of shouts and then dead silence as everybody froze and anxiously glanced around them.

‘Who fired?’ Emma demanded, striding forward and looking around the room with narrowed eyes.

Nobody answered.

‘Is anybody hurt?’ Moira asked, the worry in her voice apparent.

Again, there was no answer.

Then –

‘Where’s Raven?’ Erik demanded, his expression suddenly strained and his eyes nearly wild. ‘Where is she? _Raven?_ ’

The others all glanced around. Sure enough, there was no sign of Raven. In the space where she had been there were now only a handful of men lying scattered around the floor while the others surrounded Logan and Erik.

There was an awkward silence.

‘Do you mean to tell me,’ Emma said in a slow and deliberate voice, her tone icy cold as she addressed the security team, ‘that over a dozen of you had your guns pointed straight at the girl and yet not only did you not manage to detain her, but that _not a single one of you_ even managed to witness her _escape_?’

The guards in the room all shuffled uneasily

‘Well whaddya know,’ Logan’s eyebrows had risen and his tone was one of reluctant admiration, ‘Blondie’s a regular Houdini.’

‘Diversionary tactics and escapology were included in a few of her Programs,’ Hank piped up helpfully, his tone earnest. ‘I remember there was this one time where we had to help her get over a dozen hostages out of a ten-storey-’

‘ _Yes_ , Mr. McCoy, that will be _quite_ enough, don’t you think?’ Emma snapped, glaring at Hank and causing him to blush fiercely and stammer out an apology. Emma sighed then and shook her head. ‘Never mind,’ she said in a much calmer tone, bringing up a hand to push back a truant lock of blonde hair. ‘Your point is noted. Mystique _does_ have a very unique skill-set, after all.’ She turned to the leader of the security detail. ‘Call on your reserves,’ she instructed him. ‘Have them spread out through the building and monitor the surroundings. She can’t have gone far.’

‘She got in without your men noticing,’ Erik bit out, looking at Emma with keen dislike. ‘What makes you think that they’ll catch her on her way out?’

‘Security was deliberately relaxed this morning,’ Emma answered coolly, seeming unfazed by Erik’s question. ‘We are once again at our most alert and watchful state. She would have to be really quite ingenious to get out.’

‘Which she is,’ Erik said smugly, raising his chin as if in pride.

‘Not to mention bloodthirsty,’ Logan added, shrugging when Emma turned to face him. ‘You told me yourself that this Mystique chick wasn’t afraid of getting her hands dirty.’

Emma’s mouth twisted into a grim smile. ‘You are all very convincing,’ she said dryly. ‘I thank you for your input.’ She turned to the security team. ‘Hold them,’ she said, jerking her head towards the others.

Hank let out a squawk of surprise and Erik let out a growl as they were immediately surrounded by the remaining security guards, who were now infinitely more wary of them than before.

‘ _Sonofabitch!_ ’ Logan swore as the barrel of yet another rifle was shoved into his chest, turning to glare at Emma with an expression of resentful fury. ‘Of all the cold-hearted, back-stabbing-’

He was immediately interrupted by Emma, who turned to Logan with a look of ice-cold rage on her face. ‘Let us not go into just _who_ betrayed _whom_ right now, Mr. Howlett,’ she said icily, her hands clenched into fists at her side. ‘I think you will find that you do _not_ come out the better of _that_ particular battle.’ After a moment she took a deep breath, allowing the fury on her face to subside into something a bit calmer before turning to the security men around her. ‘Take him to Meeting Room A,’ she ordered, crossing her arms over her chest and deliberately refusing to meet Logan’s eyes. ‘And keep him contained. I will be speaking to Mr. Howlett in due course.’ She then looked away, unfazed, as Logan let out a series of vile curses as he was grabbed and pulled away from the foyer. 

Emma waited until the sound of Logan’s angry cursing faded from the room before calmly turning her attention towards Erik. ‘Take him to Meeting Room C,’ she ordered, nodding at him. ‘Make sure that he is comfortable. I will be dealing with him shortly.’ She then sighed and glared down at her clothes, where the minutest of blood specks marred the white cloth. ‘I shall, of course, need some time to make myself a bit more presentable first,’ she muttered, ignoring Erik’s struggles to free himself from his captors.

‘You can’t do this!’ Moira yelled furiously as Erik was towed away. ‘This isn’t right, you know exactly what-’

‘Dr. MacTaggart,’ Emma’s voice was cold. ‘You are in more than enough trouble already. I would advise you to keep your mouth shut and pray that you remain on my good side. As for Mr. Lehnsherr and Mr. Howlett – I wouldn’t worry too much about them. Their fates will be decided soon enough.’ She then turned to the nearest two guards and beckoned him over. ‘Take Dr. MacTaggart to the infirmary,’ she ordered the first one briskly. ‘She can start attending to the wounded and the unconscious.’ The man nodded and immediately caught hold of Moira’s arm and began to escort her away. 

Emma then turned to the second man who was dutifully waiting for his instructions. ‘Take Mr. McCoy back to his offices,’ she said coolly, her tone calmer now. ‘And make sure that he stays there.’ She paused for a moment, and then added, ‘But be gentle with him. I have a feeling that we may be in need of his services before the day is out …’

Hank’s face paled at that, his thoughts no doubt immediately going to the Attic. He didn’t get the chance to say anything, however, for by the time he had managed to open his mouth to protest he was already being firmly led away by a heavy-set man with a no-nonsense look about him.

Emma watched as her Programmer was ushered away and escorted up the staircase towards his offices. She waited until his feet had disappeared from view before turning around and casting a critical eye over the floor of the main hall. There were still a few unconscious bodies lying on the ground that had yet to be carted away to the infirmary but this problem was already being taken care of by the remaining men of the security team. 

Shaw’s body was also still lying on the ground, sightless eyes staring upwards and the corners of his mouth still angled up in an unnerving sort of smile as his own blood pooled around him. Emma grimaced at the sight and quickly gave orders for the body to be covered up. She would have to have one of the Actives Programmed as a Pathologist, she mused, silently rearranging her mental list of Things To Do. The Board would expect that, she knew, and she wanted things to go as smoothly as possible where they were concerned. Never mind the fact that she was now a major player herself following Shaw’s death … She hid a smile at that and straightened up, her expression once again serious. There was much for her to do in aftermath of the day’s events. She had done whatever she had felt was best at the time and now she had to deal with the consequences of her actions. She couldn’t risk any slurs to her reputation or questions of her loyalty just now. Not when she was so close …

Her eyes drifted to where Charles was standing at her side, silent and unmoving. She frowned when she saw a trickle of Shaw’s blood beading its way towards his small, bare feet and, grasping him gently by the elbow, pulled him slightly towards her and out of the way of the blood trail. 

Charles blinked at the sudden tug but he came willingly enough. He gave her a vague smile before once again turning away with a dreamy expression on his face. He seemed to be completely serene and Emma felt something ease inside of her upon seeing him that way. He, at least, had been unaffected by the events of the past few hours.

As she continued to watch him, however, Emma felt a strange tug of emotions in her chest. It unsettled her and she quickly looked away, frowning. If she didn’t know any better, she would say that the emotion she was experiencing was guilt. 

_No_ , she rejected the idea almost immediately, shaking her head and lifting her chin decisively. She had no reason to feel guilty. What she had done – what she was _doing_ and what she _planned_ on doing – was only what was necessary. Emma was not without her ambitions, it was true, but she had long ago admitted to herself that personal advancement played only a very small part in her decisions as the Manager and Director of the House. Lesser minds might view her actions as nothing but a power play but then Emma had no time for lesser minds.

Besides, she had better things to worry about. Being a leader wasn’t easy, as she knew all too well, and the next few hours of her leadership would probably be the most crucial and difficult of her career.

Emma’s eyes narrowed. She welcomed the challenge.

Her resolve set, she finally turned around and faced Charles, allowing her expression to subside into a rarely-seen expression of near-tenderness.

‘Come on, Charles,’ she said softly, taking him again by the arm and gently steering him around. ‘It’s time for you to rest.’ It wouldn’t be for long but a few hours of sleep would do him good, she decided.

Charles came willingly, smiling and unhesitating and full of nothing but the most complete trust as he allowed Emma to lead the way.

Emma sighed.

Leading Charles was easy. It was everyone else that was the problem.


End file.
